


Love is bitter than wine

by llgf



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Summer, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:46:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llgf/pseuds/llgf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline and Klaus met one summer, and they drank each other utterly. It was supposed to be a simple summer fling but it ended up to be more than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is bitter than wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KlausIsMyEverything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlausIsMyEverything/gifts).



Caroline looked at the sky and inhaled a good breath of fresh air. She could smell the heat, the used pathway, the dried grass and the summer. The wind rocked her hair and the noise of her bike reminded her why she liked holidays. To be able to go out, her head high, a smile on her lips, trying to look straight at the sun.

But, a pebble on the way, and an absent-minded Caroline lost control of the bike to spread out on the ground, the wheel continuing to run while Caroline lied down on the verge.

"Shit." She muttered, looking down at her scratched knee.

She stretched out on the grass and looked at the sky. With the holidays came the desire to accomplish nothing, but relax and have fun.

Caroline had dreaded these holidays, as they were the first ones with her father’s new companion and his daughter, Sarah. But when she looked at the clouds, without caring about the next day – or the world – she was happy.

The kind of unconditional happiness, just relaxant, to feel the sun on her skin, to hear animals, insects, and then to smell the freshly watered grapes.

She raised her head to look at the vast vineyards, forming a big space filled with straight line, though deformed by the hills, and the path between them, creating a view too formal to be natural – but beautiful anyway.

She got up, catching her straw hat off the ground to stroll between the vineyards, brushing the wet leaves, and the brilliant fruits.

With two fingers, she caught a juicy grape and bit it, feeling the skin torn under her teeth and the juice poured on her tongue.

"Can I help you?"

Caroline turned her head abruptly to find a man wearing rain boots and holding a bucket staring at her with narrowed eyes.

Caroline chuckled, just like she did every time she was embarrassed. “I am so sorry.” She apologized, giving him her best don’t-yell-at-me smile.

He looked at her, her smile – brighter than the sun – and the red stain on the corner of her mouth.

He laughed lowly, lowering his head. “It’s alright, love.”

He grabbed a full grape and smelled the fruits, before putting them in his bucket.

“Is it yours?”

Her voice startled him, he really thought she would have flew away by now. But no, she was closer to him now, and he could smell her sun cream and strawberries. “The vineyards, I mean.” Caroline added with a small smile.

“It’s my family’s.”

Caroline nodded. She turned around, determined to go back on her bike and find another tree to lie under. When –

“Red wine amateur?”

His voice, throaty, low and his accent made her melt inside.

“Alcohol amateur.” She replied with a laugh.

The man laughed back. “Then can I introduce you to the art of oenology, sweetheart?”

“It’s Caroline.” Caroline quickly said, even though the way he said sweetheart was truly endearing.

“Caroline.” He repeated, letting the name rolling out of his tongue.

“And I would love that.”

Caroline had a beautiful afternoon with Klaus – she learned, seconds after she followed him through the vineyards – he taught her how to recognize a grape mature enough to be collected. Klaus smelled the grape, when she really preferred to just taste a fruit.

“What happened to you knee?” Klaus asked at some point.

And they laughed, about how she fell off her bike. He mocked her, a little bit, their witty comebacks entertaining. It was a great day. She laughed loudly as she held her dress up, pressing the grapes with her bare foot. She smiled when he talked with passion about his work. She was concentrated when he taught her how to properly taste wine.

“You see, look straight down into the glass, then hold the glass to the light, and finally, give it a tilt, so the wine rolls toward its edges. You will see the wine’s complete color range, not just the dark center.”

Now they were seated at a small stone table, behind Klaus’ atelier, drinking a glass of his wine, listening to the grasshoppers happily singing through the greensward. The stars took the sun’s place and it was beautiful.

Even though Klaus was _not_ looking at the stars. Or a deeply different kind.

He loved how her head rolled back to look at the sky, a glass in hand, and how she closed her eyes, just like the sun was here to kiss her face, when there only was a dark sky above them.

He loved to hear her laugh. And he loved to simply talk to her.

They spent all the evenings of her summer holiday together. Sharing stories over a glass – or two – of wine, or something stronger at time.

And Caroline didn’t know if it was because of the calm sensation of holidays, the happiness the sun high in the sky provided her, or even the alcohol burning through her veins, but that night, when they were both lying down on a blanket, looking at the sky once again, she put her head against his shoulder, and run her hand on his arm.

Her scent was enveloping him, the same sun cream, the strawberries, and now an after smell of wine. Goosebumps appeared as her finger nails brushed his upper arm, he only wanted to touch more skin, to taste her, just like he tasted wine, studying it, worshipping it. And he didn’t know why. Tourists were not rare over here, and he had his share of summer flings.

But Caroline.

Caroline was intoxicating just like wine, precious, rich, burning him from inside, a little bit raw, just like an unfiltered cup of wine, unpolished by any inhibitions, and he could only imagine how her kisses could be.

So he gave in. He slowly turned his head and with a finger raised her chin so he could look at her eyes – so blue it reminded him of a clear sky at noon. Inches by inches, he brought closer his lips to her. She still didn’t close her eyes. He caressed her lips with his own, his hand on her neck, drawing invisible circles on her sun kissed skin.

She was the one giving the final push, lowering her lips so he could fully embrace her.

It was better than wine.

The way her lips moved against his, like she was drinking him in, and how her hands spread in his curls, scrapping delightfully his scalp, how her body boldly moved to flush against him, how her leg went between his.

How he kissed her like he was a starving man.

He lowered his hand on her back, feeling against his fingertips her skin, as her shirt got higher with her moves, and finally, the hem of her short, and the fullness or her arse against his palm.

She broke the kiss, panting, and he heard her voice, mumbling something about how they shouldn’t, that she would be leaving soon. But he took her lips again, swallowing her complains, and she complied, melting herself into the kiss.

He moved to be over her, roaming his hands on her glorious body, wondering how he could have such a beautiful creature in his arms.

A strange sensation in his neck stopped his movement.

“What’s wrong?” Caroline panted, hands on his shoulders.

It hit him again.

The sky was dark, hidden behind a wall of black clouds threatening to rain down on them.

“Want to go inside?” Klaus murmured, getting his lips on her ear.

Caroline bit the inside of her mouth. She really shouldn’t. She is too enamored right now, too caught up in the moment – in him – too smitten to go back. And she’ll have to go back. Back to Mystic Falls. She doesn’t have any choice, and she doesn’t want him to be _just_ a summer flings, because their whole time together has been a proof that is was more than that.

So she nodded.

He smiled, showing his dimples and grabbed her by the waist, carrying her through his backyard bridal style as she laughed under the now pouring rain.

He pushed her against the wall as soon as they entered his small home in the middle of the vineyards, the rain echoing on the windows and roof.

He kissed her, deeper than before, his tongue begging for entrance by liking her lips. She gasped as his hand squeezed her ass, and he takes advantage to delve her mouth with his tongue.

The kiss is burning her with passion, their tongues battling, as her hands sneak in his curls. His own his leaving her behind to caress her stomach, lowering to the hem or her shorts.

They moves in synchronization, just like their tongue, they’re melting into each other, grinding her curves against the harshness of his body.

He stops the kiss suddenly as his hand stop just above her shorts button.

“Are you sure?”

She could back out, try to forget – because she feels like there is no turning back after that – but she can’t, she is too caught up in the cocoon that is Klaus, especially now, trapped in his arms, that she never wants to leave. And she tries _so hard_ to make herself believe she won’t have to.

She takes her shirt off as her response, biting her lower lip as she looks at him, his eyes darkening at the sight of her, only in her bra. He groans and the sound is reverbing through Caroline’s body like alcohol after a drink. He grabs her waist and flushes her against his chest, taking her lips once again.

He gets rid of his shoes and socks as he keeps kissing her, “I need you in my bed, love”, he mutters, out of breath. And Caroline only kisses him, like she can’t get enough – and maybe she really can’t.

They are in his room in a blur, Caroline can feel the softness of his sheets on her bare back as she falls on the mattress like a rag doll. Her whole body is on fire, heating up from inside at the sight of the grape picker who rocked her world few days ago.

She likes him, she likes how he looks at her – especially now, his eyes black – she likes how is passionate about everything he does, she likes his voice, she likes her name on his lips. She likes his roughness. She likes his hidden softness. She likes his calmness. She likes his steams of passion.

She likes him.

She can’t keep her mouth closed as she looks at him getting undress, his shirt forgotten on the floor, his chest bare for her to see. The line of his tattoos deformed but the lines of his torso. He is absolutely beautiful. And she wants him.

He gets rid of his jeans too, leaving him only in his boxers and Caroline can’t help but blush at the sight of his arousal, contrasting on the black underwear. He takes a step toward her, putting one knee on the bed whilst she support herself on her elbows, to be able to fully look at him.

His hand caresses her leg, and she spread them almost immediately, craving for his touch.

He is between her legs now, fumbling with the button of her shorts before he tear them down. She gasps as the raw jean slide on her sensitive skin, and she moans when he hums in delight, putting his lips on her hipbone.

She can’t hear his warning about how _he’s going to taste her_ as he let his finger caress her soaked panties. Her hips jerks into his hand, begging him for more, _way more_ than that.

He nips at her hipbone, licking, sucking, as he slowly pushes down with a hooked finger her lacy panties. She shivers at what she’s sure is about to happen. He kisses her inner thigs, softly. Her head rolls back as pleasure spread in her bones and veins.

But he stops, and he looks at her – because he needs to be sure she wants it, and maybe to realize it’s real.

“Please, Klaus.” She pants.

He smirks but finally put his mouth where she wants him the most. Her folds are glistening with want, he first kiss her clit, sending a jolt through her spine, before licking, slowly, trying to taste all the texture of her juices. Because he’s a starving man right now.

She moans louder and louder as his tongue explore her pussy, licking, flicking, and nipping.

She can’t get enough, and her hands automatically caress his curls, pushing him against her heat.

He sucks at her clit then, as a finger spread her folds open, stroking her entrance. He hears her complain about his teasing, between moans of pleasure, but he wants to take his time, to remember her taste. He feels her hips jerks against his mouth.

His stubble against her sensitive skin, the way his tongue is playing with her pussy, it kills her. Her cheeks are red, and her whole body heated by his ministrations, yet, if she could burn utterly right now, she will, she will be willing to burn under his tongue – and oh, a finger.

He enters his finger in her entrance, feeling her wet, clenching walls around it. “Fuck, Caroline.” His words are smothered. He keeps giving attention to her overly sensitive pearl, glistening with her juices.

He adds a finger, and Caroline’s reactions is what he wants to experience every time, a moan, an injure, and the way her back arches, her walls clenches around him.

He strokes her walls with his fingers, as his tongue flicks her clit. Her other hand is clutching her hipbone, keeping her against his mouth.

And one of her hands goes there too, taking his hand to intertwine their fingers, because she _can’t_ have enough contact with him, she wants everything, she –

He hooks his fingers inside her and it’s enough to send her over the edge. She doesn’t control the sounds coming out of her mouth, or the way her body convulses under his touches, all she can feel is this incredible heat in her body, the pleasurable pain spreading through her body. She comes on his tongue and he takes every drop, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Caroline is panting, and doesn’t seem to register how Klaus takes off his fingers – licking them, she _really_ is the most precious – and starts to kiss her neck, his arousal pressing against her sensitive core.

She kisses him, muttering an “I want you” against his mouth, gleaming with her juices.

Her hand strokes his hardness through his boxers, urging him to finally be inside her.

He stretches out his hand to grab a condom on his night stand and quickly gets rid of his boxers, freeing his aching erection. She took advantage to take off her bra, and she’s completely bare for him to see, her sun kissed skin, smelling like sunscreen and strawberries, her pink nipples, hard like diamonds, how he wants to touch them, lick them.

He puts the condom and takes his place back, his cock against her folds, as he starts kissing one breast, and caressing the other.

“Please.” She begs, her hand stroking his back, the other one grabbing his erection, guiding him to her entrance.

He mumbles something against her neck and pushes inside, unhurriedly, giving her the time to adjust and giving him the time to enjoy how her heat is griping him like a vice.

Her moans turns into cries of pleasure as he thrusts more rapidly. Her legs encircles his waist, bringing him even closer, deeper. His groans are animalistic, his kisses feverish, and his thrusts pleasurable.

She feels his cock, filling her completely, to leave a second after, it’s almost automatic, rhythmical. Her whole body dissolves under his thrusts, she feels nothing but him, penetrating.

She feels herself tipping over the edge once again, her pussy clenching around him, she is close, and he knows it. His thumb makes a path on her breast, stomach, to arrive on her clit, giving her pressure to make her come – once again, to hear her moans, his name rolling out of her pink lips.

The heat is accompanied by shivers, spams taking control of her moves, as he sends bolts of pleasure through her bones and veins, his whole body is against hers, and the contact is boiling her blood. She feels his cock, thrusting.

He pumps, harder, faster, feeling her coming close to an end. He wants to be inside her when she does.

She grabs his head, by the neck, forcing him to look at her, his stormy eyes, looking at her with heated passion, as his thrusts never grows weak, and the way his thumb is flicking her clit, and –

Her mouth opens gradually, a moan stuck in her throat as her whole body clenches, sending this orgasmic sensation through her, her core bursting in flames. _Klaus_ , she repeats his name, and he’s smiling at that. Her hands clench like claws on his neck as all her nerves explode at the same time.

He comes several thrust later, and she loves to hear his breathing stop as his whole body clenches, as her own body relaxes after her climax. He is a lying on her, the harshness of his chest against her curves. And she never wants to leave.

Every day, she takes her bike and joins him, to taste more wine and more him. She simply can’t get enough of his touches, his love making – him entirely, even if he has his moods.

She goes to pick grapes with him, goes to the market with him, and goes to the lake (naked) with him. Their lips are never far from the other. She doesn’t want this summer to end.

But eventually, it does.

Sarah is sick. And they need to go back to New York, and her to Mystic Falls sooner than later.

The thought is killing her.

She fights with her dad, because she simply  _can't leave_ _now._ But he stays deaf to her complains. He doesn't know how his daughter feels. How it's too hard, how she can’t leave him.

She _can’t_ tell him she is.

So as they’re lying on the grass, just like the first time, cuddling each other as they listen to the crickets singing, she tells him those words. The words she said so many times before but never understood them. _I love you_. She feels the heaviness of those words now that she knows she won’t be able to say them again.

Klaus looks at her with wide eyes, but doesn’t reciprocate. And it’s fine for Caroline, she knows she is saying those words because tomorrow, she’ll be gone. She wants to makes things go faster as they will soon fade into a memory.

He does reciprocate though, as he starts kissing her with a new passion, caressing her body like never before, just like she is the most precious and rare thing in the world, whose skin is melting like butter under his touches. And she’s all his.  

He makes love to her with passion, he knows it’s his way to say those words back. He knows he’ll never get enough of his girl, his sunshine. And he’s so ignorant of what tomorrow will mean.

It means him, alone in his bed as the freshness of the sheets next to him kills him inside. A note on the pillow. _I love you, Klaus. Thank you._

Caroline doesn’t cry on the way back, but she doesn’t smile. She keeps having memories of the most beautiful summer she had. How she rode her bike happily, singing out loud, how she met him, how she was drunk, once after their wine tasting session, how they made love for the first time, and all those times after, how he kissed her, suddenly, his dimples, his smirk, his mouth, his eyes. Everything. Especially how the grape picker totally ripped out her heart to make the most precious wine with it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! And know that I planned on a second part, because Klaroline angst it too much for me! (I love wine. And your blog!)


End file.
